Out of Time Man
by antmuzak
Summary: An ex-kidnap victim, turned pickpocket and prostitute, crosses paths with Mike Ehrmantraut. The unlikely pair form a team, fighting for redemption and revenge, and encountering sleazy criminal lawyers, drug addicts, psychopathic school teachers, and many glasses of whiskey. An OC fic, but not like the usual Mary Sue ones, etc. OC/Saul. Takes place before/during/after Breaking Bad.
1. Waiting Around to Die

"_**It's a timing tragedy,**_

_**I think it's nine when the clock says ten**_

_**This girl won't wait for the out of time,**_

_**out of time man"**_

_**-**__**"**__**Out of Time Man", Mick Harvey (Breaking Bad Soundtrack)**_

**Out of Time Man**

**Chapter One**

Taisie felt a shiver run through her body, as she lay down on the cold hard leather of the seats, in the back of the car she'd broken into.

She'd picked at the lock easily enough. She'd taught herself how to do that a young age. It wasn't so complicated- much easier than algebra or learning which spoon was the dessert spoon.

Taisie blinked heavily, feeling her eyelashes graze her cheek, and stifled a yawn. She wished she could rip open the car roof, and watch the stars. She couldn't name any of them, and they held little meaning to her, but it would feel more reassuring than simply staring into darkness, while goose pimples grew on her skin.

"God dammit," she muttered absently to herself. She'd cut her finger, picking the lock. It was bleeding- nothing serious, just little spurts of red here and there. She pressed her finger to her lip, feeling slickness, and slipping the metallic taste into her mouth.

The one day that'd she'd lost her coat, and it was fucking freezing outside. She could see her own breath, greeting the air around her, like puffs of smoke.

It had been a long time since she'd slept in a warm bed, but she'd grown used to the back aches and chattering teeth that came with spending the night in a stalled car, under a covered bridge, or simply on the streets.

Occasionally, her face was buried in a mattress. But that was never a good sign.

But now, her eyes were drooping and, despite the cold, she felt the need to drift into the world of the unawake.

This car was just as much of a home, as anywhere else was.

* * *

><p>Taisie would always wake, just before sunrise, and scurry out of the car she'd spent the night in. She never took care to hide any signs of breaking in, but she didn't have time to care. If someone parked their car overnight in this part of town, someone was bound to break into it.<p>

But it seemed that today was a destined to be a very different day.

Taisie awoke, feeling the rumble of a motor underneath her. When her eyes shot open, she looked around in a panicked frenzy.

She knew, better than anyone, that waking up somewhere different than where you fell asleep, was never a good sign.

But, in this instance, Taisie was merely an inch away from her sleeping spot. She was on the carpeted floor of the car. She'd rolled off the leather seats while she was sleeping, and had landed, face first, in a pile of dusty old newspapers.

She dared not move, as she glanced upward, and saw that someone was occupying the driver's seat, and the car was moving.

She had no way of knowing how far away from the city she was now, and she felt a sense of dread building in her stomach.

Without moving, or barely breathing, she read the newspaper titles.

_Albuquerque Daily News_

_Albuquerque Inquirer_

_Albuquerque Today_

Fuck, she thought to herself, Albuquerque was hours away. If she got out of this car alive, she'd have to hitchhike back, and there was no certainty that would ensure her safety either.

She wished she could get a better look at the driver, without revealing her presence. She took a sharp breath. She would have to act quickly.

Taisie lowered her hand to her feet, and carefully pulled out her pistol.

"Don't fucking move," She commanded, as she pressed it to the driver's neck. She had it positioned right where she wanted it.

Through the rear view mirror, she could see now that her victim was a man, probably in his 60s, with white fuzz across his face and head, but no other visible hair to be spoken of. His nose was crooked, and his sneer stayed on his face, even after she'd pressed the gun harder, urging him to react.

"Kind of hard to drive without moving," the old man growled.

Taisie shook away her doubts, and forced herself to try again.

"Listen, you old fucker, I'm not joking. Don't try anything, or I'll shoot."

"Is this a bank robbery?"

Taisie furrowed her brow. What a sarcastic old man.

"I want you to pull over at the next exit. You'll get out, and leave me the keys. You won't report it as a robbery."

"I won't?"

"Would you shut up!?" Taisie tensed, "I'm doing the talking!"

"Listen, kid," the old man continued, barely flinching, as he watched the road ahead, "you don't know what you're doing. So put the piece down, and let me drop you off at a McDonald's or something."

"I'm not a kid," Taisie's voice faltered, "and I'm not someone you want to mess with. Now, do what I say, or I'll-"

"Or you'll what?" The old man snapped, "Do you even know where you're pointing that thing."

Taisie felt the gun slide in her hand, as her palms became sweatier.

She didn't want to answer. She couldn't give him any leverage, and he already knew the truth. She'd stolen the gun from her last John. She'd studied it intently, and tried to remember what she knew about using them. But she was still an amateur.

"Do you know which vein to aim for? Where you'll get the most blood, or where you'll cause the most pain? Or are you just guessing? Did you pick the neck because it was closest, or because you thought it would kill me quicker?"

"What the fuck do you know about guns?" Taisie commanded, "you have no idea where I come from."

"You clearly have no idea where I come from either," the old man tapped his fingers against the driver's wheel, "I know a hell of a lot about guns. But you don't need to know about that. Just drop it."

Taisie's hands clenched harder and harder, until she lost her grip, and it fell to the ground.

Shocked, she looked up, to catch the man's eyes in his mirror. He looked unimpressed.

"Pass it," he commanded cooly.

For reasons unknown, Taisie obliged.

But the old man did not try to shoot her, or even hide the gun. Still with his eyes on the road, he weighed the gun in his hand, clicking his tongue against the roof of his tongue.

"How did you get your hands on it?"

"Doesn't matter," Taisie muttered. Now feeling vulnerable, she grabbed pulled the strap on her tank top higher up her shoulder.

There was silence for an unsettling moment. The old man placed the gun down by his feet.

"Not even loaded," he chuckled darkly.

"It's not?" Taisie sucked in air, horrified, "He fucking stiffed me."

"Fair weather friend," The old man clucked.

"So what are you, a cop or something?"

"You think if I was a cop I'd be this casual?"

Taisie sniffed sharply, and glared at the man's reflection.

"I used to be a cop. Now I'm just pissed off," he shrugged.

"What are you going to do with me?" Taisie wondered. He didn't seem too interested in doing anything with her. Not like most men she dealt with.

"I'm going to figure that out soon enough," he said through gritted teeth, "but first...I need a cup of coffee."

"Are you kidding me?!" Taisie groaned, "you don't need any goddamn coffee!"

"It's six in the morning and I had a late night," the old man disagreed, "I need coffee."

"So let me out at the coffee place then," Taisie pressed, "and buy yourself a doughnut while you're at it, so you can stick it up your-,"

"God, you're a classy girl, aren't you?"

"I just want to get back to L.A."

"Then why'd you get into my car, eh?"

"I was sleeping in it, you halfwit!" Taisie dug her fingernails into the leather seats, "some of us don't have fancy cars and houses."

"You think I have a fancy house?" the old man grunted, "you're the halfwit."

Taisie shrieked in impatience and frustration.

"For fuck's sake, just let me out! It's not like I can pay you for the damage I did to your lock, and you're obviously not interested in fucking me, so what else do we have going here?"

The old man raised his eyebrows at her vulgarity. It was interesting what would and wouldn't shock him.

"So that's how you make your cash then?"

"Don't you dare fucking judge me," Taisie growled, "you have no idea what it's like."

"No, I imagine I wouldn't."

Taisie sighed, and sat back in her seat. She buckled her seat belt into place. It didn't look like she'd be getting out of the car anytime soon.

"Can we at least listen to some music?" Taisie mumbled.

"We can listen to the news," the old man clicked on the radio, and switched it to a local news station.

"Why would you want to listen to all this miserable shit?" Taisie inquired, "isn't the world already depressing enough?"

"You tell me," the old man snorted.

"What's your name anyway? If I'm going to be stuck with you, you might as well tell me."

"I'm Mike. Mike Ehrmantraut," Mike Ehrmantraut informed her.

"I'm Taisie," Taisie pressed her face against the window pane, watching as the city passed her by.

"No last name?"

"Not anymore," Taisie chewed on her lip.

"You seem pretty casual for someone who's been uprooted like this."

"It's happened before," Taisie said, under her breath. This was all too familiar to her.

But he was a damn fool to think that she was casual, in anyway. Her heart was battering against her ribcage, and her eyes darted around the car, every time she blinked.

"You casing the place?" Mike grunted.

So maybe he wasn't a fool. Just a crazy old man.

"Natural habit," Taisie cleared her throat.

"I'm sure it is."

The car lurched as it turned a corner. They were pulling up to a Starbucks.

"How can I help you?" The barista chirped. Her grin disappeared as she took one look at sullen Mike, and the half-dressed vagrant in the back seat.

"I need a coffee," Mike told her. He had an edge to his voice that dared her to ask him what size he would like.

Once the coffee was in his hands, he stuffed his wallet back into his coat. He wore a black fleece. Taisie watched were he stowed it, wondering if he had a piece on him as well. Or a cellphone. If she played her cards right, and he wasn't armed, she might be able to jump him and steal the car. But time needed to be on her side.

"You're not very polite, are you?"

"Kid, you've got your feet on the back of my seat. Don't talk to me about manners."

Taisie rolled her eyes and lowered her feet. She didn't point out that her boots were situated around the head piece of his seat, so she could strangle him if need be.

"I don't get why you don't just release me. I serve no purpose to you!"

Mike was silent for a while, and sipped his coffee while they slipped back onto the highway.

"I need to consult someone, before I do anything about you."

"What are you, in the mafia?" Taisie spat, "I didn't do anything! I just slept in your car. I'm 5"2, and I'm homeless. If you really had a problem with me, you'd call the cops."

"I don't associate with cops," Mike caught her eye in the mirror, "now keep quiet. We've got a long drive ahead of us."

* * *

><p>Taisie guessed that it had to be about seven hours to get to Albuquerque from here. Getting back to L.A would not be an easy task. She'd have to switch hitchhiker's several times, and there was no guarantee that she'd make it back alive. She'd had some bad experiences with hitchhiking before.<p>

"This is going to be a long ride," she cleared her throat, slicing into the silence that had gone on for just over an hour.

"True, but you can make it a lot shorter by keeping quiet," Mike mumbled.

He'd finished his coffee, and crumpled up the cup, dropping it onto the floor of the passenger's seat. He didn't seem to be a man who prioritized organization. In fact, from all the time Taisie had spent with the man, she had decided that the only thing that he did prioritize, was driving.

"You expect me to sit here for seven hours, without any food or water, against my will? I mean, really, don't you think people will think it's a bit creepy that you've just decided to kidnap a nineteen year old girl?"

"Nineteen, eh?" Mike ground his teeth, "old enough to know that breaking into a car is just as illegal as kidnapping someone."

'I don't think that's how that works," Taisie muttered to herself.

Mike gave Taisie a warning look, so she let the silence simmer, for about an hour, until she could take it no longer.

"I'm bored...let's play a game."

Mike did not indulge Taisie with an answer.

Taisie kicked at the back of his seat, refusing to let him pretend she wasn't there. Maybe if she annoyed the fuck out of him, he would let her go.

"The problem with what you're doing, is you're distracting me from driving," Mike informed his captive, with a piercing glance in the mirror.

"That is the stupidest thing I've heard all day. We have six more hours to go, and you honestly expect me to be quiet the entire time?" Taisie pushed her luck.

"I expect you to know what's good for you," Mike had this way of talking that was somehow calm enough to make you unsettled and confused as to whether he was angry or not, but also sharp enough to know that it was best not to find out.

"It's just a game- it won't hurt you."

"I don't play games. My 10 year old granddaughter plays games," Mike rolled his eyes to the roof of the car.

"Aha!" Taisie clapped, triumphantly, "So you have a granddaughter. Well there you go, we've already set the grounds for the game. I get to ask ten yes or no questions about your life, and you must answer honestly."

"That's not a game, that's interrogation," Mike pointed out. The car was beginning to fill with sunlight, and the old man looked uncomfortable in his thick black fleece.

"And you'd know a lot about that, wouldn't you? Because you used to be a cop?" Taisie wondered how far she could push Mike's buttons.

"Yes," Mike put simply. He clenched his pasty hands on the steering wheel until they turned a rosy shade of red.

"So we are playing the game then?" Taisie prompted

"Yes. And that counted as a question," Mike snapped.

So the old man had decided to have some fun.

"Fine," Taisie shrugged, "Where are you taking me?"

"That's not a yes or no question," the ghost of an amused smile flew by Mike's face, but disappeared again before Taisie could get a good look at it.

"Are you going to harm me in any way?" Taisie dared to ask.

Mike cleared his throat and frowned.

"That's really not up to me. It's much more complicated than-"

"Oh, that's just great to hear. It's a yes or no answer. Be honest, is there a chance that I will be harmed?"

"…Yes, there is a small chance," Mike muttered, refusing to look Taisie's way.

Taisie was silent. She bit her lip and turned back to look out the window pane. God fucking dammit. Now she had to get out of here.

"I thought you were going to be asking me questions about my life, not your future," Mike invited her back into the game, in a voice that seemed to be as gentle as he would ever go.

"Where did you grow up?" Taisie inquired, still looking out at the passing cities. They must have been nearing Arizona by now.

"Chicago," Mike chewed on his lip, "Also not a yes or no question. New rule: every question you ask me, you must answer as well."

"I grew up in Los Angeles, same place you found me," Taisie pressed on, "You talk about grandkids, I guess you were married then?"

"Yes, once. What about you?"

Taisie gave Mike a pained look through the rear view mirror.

"I'm nineteen."

"I mean, are you currently engaged in a romantic-"

"For fuck's sakes, Mike, I'm a prostitute," Taisie felt her face burning. Romantic relationships didn't exist in her life.

"Alright, alright. Next question."

"Do you live in Albuquerque?"

"Right now, yes. How long have you lived in L.A?"

"Not a yes or no question...," Taisie frowned, "I'm feeling like you're turning this around on me now. You're definitely trying to interrogate me."

"Oh for fuck's sakes. Why are we even doing this? Just be quiet, won't you?" Mike grumbled. It appeared that his juvenile spirit had left him for good this time.

"Why won't you just admit it!?" Taisie exploded, throwing her hands on the back of Mike's seat, "You're taking me to Albuquerque because I know something, and you want to find out exactly how much I know."

Mike had no visible reaction to this accusation.

"Well you're wasting your time, because I know nothing! I fell asleep just after midnight, long after you'd left your car, and I woke up when the car was moving. I didn't see what you did before or after you got into the car, and there's nothing suspicious in your car, except for maybe a few too many crumpled up coffee cups. You're dragging me halfway across the country-"

"It's really not halfway," Mike objected.

"-for no reason!" Taisie continued, "If you would just let me go, I'd appreciate that very much."

"Whether or not you appreciate it, I can't risk anything," Mike explained, "You're coming with me to Albuquerque, and then we're going to talk to an associate of mine, and sort some things out. If you cooperate, and keep your mouth shut, then I will let you go at the appropriate time."

"I'm more likely to find something out about you while I'm here," Taisie muttered to herself. Even if she could see no physical evidence that Mike had been up to something, she felt confident enough that she could pry the information out of him if she tried.

"Aren't you at least going to feed me?" Taisie kicked at the back of Mike's seat like a child, "I haven't eaten in at least two days."

She was being dramatic in her tone, but not with her information. With her salary being so low, and depending on when she could find a John, food was hard to come by. She learned to live off of things like apples and cheap candy, and her thin stature showed this clearly. Her dark skin clung to her bones like a snug jacket.

Mike was quiet for a while, considering what Taisie had said. She thought that he might be ignoring her, until he stuck his hand in his glove compartment, and drew out a muffin in a plastic container. It was a bran muffin, and looked rather stale, but Taisie shoved the entire thing in her mouth, practically choking as she swallowed each piece.

"You weren't joking," Mike realized. He looked back at her, and, for a moment, Taisie wondered what he might be thinking. He almost seemed remorseful or solemn.

But before she could properly think this through, her eyelids became heavy with sleep, and she felt herself fall onto the seat, pressing her head against the window.

* * *

><p>Taisie awoke, blinking madly.<p>

"What the fuck?" She groaned, and wiped at her eyes. After a few seconds, she recognized her surrounding, and realized what had happened to her.

"You drugged me, you bastard," She accused through gritted teeth.

Not one to lie, it seemed, Mike nodded.

"You wouldn't shut up, and I needed some quiet time."

"You just have a muffin full of sedative in your car?"

"You never know when you'll need it," Mike shrugged, "Piece of advice for you, kid, sometimes silence is good."

"It never did me any good," Taisie disagreed, stretching her arms. She felt uncomfortable, from whatever position she had unwillingly slept in. She could feel pains in her back from the seat belt she'd slept against.

Nevertheless, Taisie did remain quiet and introspective for a while. She checked the clock on the radio. They still had about two hours left until they'd arrive in Albuquerque.

It had been a long time since Taisie had been in a car. Sure, she'd jumped into the occasional truck in a back alley to perform certain ungodly acts. But being in a moving car, for a long period of time, with a destination, felt so foreign to her.

Her parents had never driven her to school. She'd always ridden her bike, or taken public transit. They'd owned a shiny SUV, but the seats had no memory of Taisie.

And, after that, well, she couldn't remember. Those years were black to her. Empty.

"You okay, kid?" Mike asked, sounding suspiciously concerned.

When Taisie blinked, refusing to let a single tear form in her stubborn eyes, and looked up at Mike, he frowned, shaking away any evidence that he'd cared.

"Fine," Taisie shrugged, "I was just thinking about the past."

"Well you just keep on thinking," Mike warned, "I was getting used to the silence."

So Taisie took his advice, and dwelled in the silence, and continued to think about her past. Only this time, she skipped over her dull former years, and the disappointment that brought. Instead, she chose to, as she often did, squeeze her eyes shut and try and remember.

When Taisie was sixteen, something happened. She'd been walking home from school, pushing her bike along side her.

L.A was hot, especially toward the end of the summer, and so she could remember that she'd been wearing shorts and a tank top. Much to Taisie's parents' disapproval, she'd favoured skimpy clothing, even back then.

What happened next was a blur to Taisie. A chaotic mess of memory. She knew that she had been kidnapped, because she'd seen the missing posters, and she'd heard about it on old news show episodes. However, she couldn't remember anything after that.

The next thing Taisie did remember, was sitting on a patch of pavement, outside a gas station, breathing heavily, and drenched in sweat. She'd been holding a gun, which she dropped, when she came to, and ran. She'd run as far as she could, until she couldn't breath, and began to cry.

By that time, Taisie had turned nineteen years old. Three years of her life were missing, and all she had to speak for it was the memory of gun in her hand, and the occasional shadow, and deep voice taunting her.

"Hey," Taisie spoke up, maybe half an hour later, "hey."

"Hey hey, what?" Mike spat, "I thought we'd agreed on silence?"

"We did, but...," Taisie strained her eyes, as she looked ahead through the wind shield, "I was just thinking of a way you could repay me."

"Repay you? Fuck that! You broke into my car!" Mike was practically roaring.

"And you took me hostage! Have we not already decided that your crime was much more serious?"

"Well let's hear this idea of yours, I could use a laugh," Mike insisted. He'd taken off his black fleece about ten minutes ago.

Taisie had discretely snapped her seatbelt off, when Mike wasn't looking, and sprung forward, grabbing Mike's gun from it's holster around his waist.

"What are you doing, kid?!" Mike roared, turning back, trying to snatch it from her, while glancing feverently back at the road.

"Calm down, I'm not going to fire it," Taisie assured him, allowing him to turn his focus back to the road.

"What do you think you're going to do with it, then?" Mike wondered, "pick your teeth?"

"It's small enough," Taisie inspected it, running her hands along the pistol, "why?"

"Why do you need to know?" Mike pressed.

"Because you're going to teach me how to use it," Taisie put plainly. She placed the gun down, delicately, on the seat beside her.

"Why the fuck would I do a thing like that?"

"Because I can help you. You can take me on as an apprentice."

"An apprentice for what? I'm retired."

"Like hell you're retired!" Taisie sat up abruptly, nudging the back of Mike's seat, aggressively, "don't fucking patronize me! I know that you're a hit man, a cleaner, an assassin. Whatever you want to call it, there's no way you're convincing me that you're not one. I'm not an idiot."

"So you're a smart one, eh?" Mike chewed on his lower lip. She'd noticed that this was a habit of his, "and taking you on as an apprentice would help me, how...?"

"Because two people can do the work twice as fast. You would barely have to pay me, and I'd be out of your sight as soon as I had enough money for rent."

"Sounds like you just need a place to stay. If you wanted the money so badly, why don't you just ask for it? Or steal it, for that matter? I have no doubt in my mind that you like to steal."

"I love to steal!" Taisie exclaimed, frustrated, "but that's not the point. I want to learn how to do what you do. And be just as good."

Mike chuckled darkly.

"That's a laugh! You think you can be as good as me? Kid, I've been training for this all my life, and I'm a LOT older than you are."

"It doesn't matter," Taisie shouted, "I want to learn! I NEED to learn! Why won't you just agree!?"

"Stop having a tantrum back there," Mike warned, "why would you need to learn how to clean? You're nineteen. Go get yourself a real job, go get married, don't fucking learn to kill people."

"I told you- you know nothing about me. I have NOTHING, and I never will. Do you know how DEGRADING it is, having to sell my body and STEAL just to stay alive? I have no other options. Nothing I do ever gets me any further, it's just a cycle of getting and losing money, and sleeping in dark alleyways. I am terrified every night, and not because I'm homeless. I'm terrified because there is a part of my life which I don't even remember, where I was fucking kidnapped! I NEED to know how to protect myself."

Mike soaked this in, a cold, stony look on his face.

"I'm not going to give you the sympathy you're looking for, kid."

"I'm not looking for sympathy," Taisie continued to fight back tears, "all I need is a few lessons. That's it."

She took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself.

"Can you do that for me, old man?"

Mike chewed on his lip, once again.

"We'll see."

* * *

><p>"We're almost there," Mike informed her.<p>

Albuquerque looked just as Taisie had expected it to: like a desolate, dry, wasteland. It had a familiar feel to it, yet nothing was recognizable.

"Where are we going? Your place?" Taisie was curious to see what kind of cave this beast lived in.

"No, I told you. We're going to speak to an associate of mine."

"I thought you said that before you agreed to take me on as an apprentice," Taisie spat out, her heart picking up its pace.

"I agreed to no such thing," Mike tutted, "anyway, he won't hurt you. He's as dumb as a doormat, and about just as deadly."

"People have been known to trip on doormats," Taisie mumbled.

"Not this guy," Mike shook his head, as if she'd spoken seriously, "Let me tell you something about Saul Goodman..."

"His name is Saul Goodman," Taisie wrinkled her nose, "what kind of name is that?"

"Not a real one, but it doesn't matter," Mike interrupted, "he's well known around here. And he does his job. That's all that matters."

"What is he?" Taisie wondered, "a drug lord? A pimp? Another hit man? A-"

"He's a lawyer," Mike cleared his throat.

"We're going to go visit your LAWYER?" Taisie gave Mike a pained look, "what happened to me not being in trouble?"

"Saul is different," Mike attempted to explain, "he's a criminal lawyer. He deals with...special cases. You don't have to worry about him. He's no problem. Though I should warn you, he's a terrible flirt."

"I can deal with flirts," Taisie rolled her eyes, "it's just lawyers that make me nervous."

"It'll be fine," Mike disagreed, as he pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall. It was crowed, and it seemed that all the traffic was directed toward the building which read "SAUL GOODMAN-ATTORNEY AT LAW"

"He's a popular guy then?" Taisie asked, expecting no answer. Mike grunted in response.

They pulled into one of the few parking spaces, Mike turned the ignition off, and they sat in silence for some time.

"Well?" He asked Taisie.

"Well what?" Taisie frowned.

"Are you going to give me my piece back?"

"Oh...right," Taisie carefully picked up Mike's gun and gave it back to him.

Casual as can be, Mike slid it back into his holster, and twisted around in his seat in order to zip his black fleece jacket back up.

"I'm going to get out of the car first," Mike explained, "then you wait two minutes, and follow. Always follow, got it?"

Taisie wondered if he meant ALWAYS, as in "in the future, when you're my apprentice", or if he was just being dramatic.

"Yeah," she nodded obediently.

Mike stepped out his car, and closed the door tightly. He didn't look back at Taisie as he walked toward Saul Goodman's office.

Taisie stared blankly at the radio clock, waiting for two minutes to go by.

It was curious that Mike trusted her to even follow him. She could easily run off, or steal his car. But maybe he understood her desperation, now that she'd explained her situation. He must have known that she'd always follow him, just like he'd instructed.


	2. Boots of Chinese Plastic

"_**It's a timing tragedy,**_

_**I think it's nine when the clock says ten**_

_**This girl won't wait for the out of time,**_

_**out of time man"**_

_**-**__**"**__**Out of Time Man", Mick Harvey (Breaking Bad Soundtrack)**_

**Out of Time Man**

**Chapter Two**

Saul Goodman's waiting room was full of people- an assortment of very odd looking people. They were standing shoulder to shoulder, and shouting at each other, or the secretary, it was hard to tell.

Taisie had shuffled her way in, and was looking frantically around her, trying to make sense of the mess she was in.

There was a woman next to Taisie, who was even skinnier than she was -she looked to be a meth addict- and chewing aggressively on a piece of gum.

"Honey," the gum-chewing-meth-head said, noticing Taisie's impatience "you're going to be waiting here for a long time."

Taisie ignored the woman with a frown, and scanned the crowd. Mike was nowhere to be found, the secretary was idly flipping through a magazine, and Taisie couldn't see anyone in the crowd being much help- they were all so focussed on entering Saul's office.

She was about to go back in the car and wait for Mike, when the door to the office opened, and a man stepped out.

The people around Taisie started to shout, trying to get Saul's attention. He waved them away, but in such a charming way, no one seemed to mind.

"Miss Anastasia, I presume," Saul twinkled his eyes in Taisie's direction.

Her jaw dropped in shock, and she shuffled forward, glaring at him as she entered his office.

Saul Goodman was a handsome man, she'd admit that. At his age, which she could guess was somewhere in his forties, he had aged well. He had a sharp jaw line, and his hair was thinning, but he somehow had an air about him that made him seem like a movie star.

But this did not make Taisie feel any better.

She stepped into his office, and he shut the door behind her. He gestured, with a bow and wave of his hand, for her to sit, next to Mike. There were two chairs in front of Saul's desk.

Saul's office was quite a large room- decorate with obviously fake collumns and suspicious looking awards and credentials.

Reluctantly, Taisie sat down and crossed her arms.

"How the fuck do you know my name?" Taisie demanded of Saul.

Saul chuckled and ran a hand through his hair, "she's a real charmer, isn't she?"

Mike kept his mouth shut. It didn't look as though Saul usually amused him, and he wasn't about to start laughing.

"Well?!" Taisie pressed. She was desperate to know how anyone would know about her past life. She'd kept it quiet for so long.

"W-well Mike told me," Saul shrugged.

Taisie stood up from her chair.

"I don't think so. I mean my full name."

Mike gently placed his hand on Taisie's arm, coaxing her to sit back down, but he remained silent.

"Alright, alright," Saul snapped, "I did a little research. Mike simply explained his situation, and it didn't take long for me to realize who you were."

Taisie sized up the sleezy criminal lawyer before her, and realized how formidable an enemy he was going to be.

"Say it out loud," Taisie whispered.

Saul slinked up to Taisie, and smirked.

"Anastasia Lockhart. Nineteen years of age. Born in Guyana, South America to an Indian father and a Guyanese mother- orphaned. Adopted into a white upper class Los Angeles family. Kidnapped at age 16. Never seen again."

He ended his spiel with a wink. Taisie, propelled by her anger, and emotions that went beyond her understanding, suddenly slapped the man.

Mike did not intervene. In fact, he was stifling a laugh.

Saul, looking like a wounded animal, nursed his cheek, and stepped behind his desk.

"Sit down kid," Mike chuckled, "he's not worth it."

Taisie did as she was told. She'd decided, from then on, no matter how grumpy and difficult Mike was, he GOT her. She'd listen to him.

"Well now that we've got the introductions done, I think it's time to talk business."

Mike cracked his knuckles.

"The nature of the situation has changed, Saul," Mike explained.

Saul looked from Mike to Taisie and nodded. He still seemed too hurt to talk.

"Oh suck it up!" Taisie growled, "I've dealt with much worse."

Saul pulled at the collar of his dress shirt, ignoring Taisie.

"How has it changed?"

"I no longer need to...deal with her. We've had an understanding."

"You've made an understanding with the violent prostitute?" Saul rubbed at his forehead; distressed.

"No- wait. Don't say anything," Saul waved away their objections, "of course you have."

"Taisie will be...training with me, for some time," Mike cleared his throat, "she's going into the business."

"You don't mean that uh...she'll be working for ...our mutual associate, do you?" Saul put carefully.

"No, I do not," Mike snapped, "for the time being, she will be working for me, and me only. When I'm done with her, she will be leaving. It's that simple."

"So, where's the business in this?" Saul asked, drumming his fingers against his desk.

"Well I simply wanted to inform you of what was going on, just in case the situation...changes again."

"Mike Ehrmantraut, you are a strange man," Saul decided. Now, seemingly, feeling much better, he put his hands behind his head and relaxed in his seat.

"You're stranger," Mike muttered, "now the kid and I have to go. I'll be seeing you later."

"Uh wait," Saul stood, "I think you might want to pass on to our MUTUAL ASSOCIATE, that I've heard about a new product getting around. Just tell him it's blue. He'll figure the rest out."

"Blue, eh?" Mike grunted, "I will pass that on."

"What's this about blue stuff?" Taisie asked.

"Nothing, kid," Mike stopped Taisie from walking out the door, "always follow, remember?"

Taisie nodded, and watched Mike slink out the door.

"You know," Saul spoke up, now that they were alone, "if you're ever interested-"

"Don't make me slap you again," Taisie warned, and walked out the door, with one last nasty glare at Saul.

* * *

><p>"You associate with some weird people," Taisie muttered as she settled back into the back seat of Mike's car.<p>

"I'm sure you do too," Mike started up the car and brought them out of the parking lot.

Taisie wanted to argue something back, but all she could do was stare out the window and hide a smile. How twisted was it that, in this strange, strange, situation she had gotten herself into, she actually felt happy? Mike was a good man, though she'd never tell him that, and soon, she would feel safe again.

"You better not be smiling back there. You've got nothing to be happy with."

This only made Taisie smile more.

Taisie had never really had friends. Before the kidnapping, she'd been an independent child. Her sister had teased her, so they'd never gotten along, and the other children at her schools had known she was different. Once a child senses that, you're isolated.

After the kidnapping, wandering the streets, Taisie had befriended a few fellow prostitutes. But you had to make those connections, otherwise you'd go crazy.

Mike was definitely not Taisie's friend. He'd taken her, against her will, to another state, and forced her to talk with his lawyer. The old man had only just decided not to hurt Taisie, yet there was something about him that was growing on her.

Mike was a grumpy old man who'd become bitter over the years. But he had a softer side, that Taisie knew could be found, if you knew where to look. She intended to find it.

They drove back to Mike's house, which was about ten minutes away, in a little suburban area. There was a nice little park around the block, with an ice cream vendor, and a handful of screaming children.

Taisie had stayed in a fair many parks when she needed a place to get warm. She'd slept in the plastic tunnels, ate breakfast by the swing sets, and done unspeakable things behind the public washrooms.

They turned the corner and Mike pointed out his house. He lived in a small white house. There wasn't much else to say about it. It was simple and discrete- probably just what Mike was going for.

They parked the car in his driveway, and Taisie followed Mike to the door.

The inside of his house was similarly simple- you were in the living room upon entrance, then there was a tiny kitchen around the corner, and another corner which must have lead to where the bedroom and bathroom were.

Mike hung up his fleece on a coat rack and left the room to deal with his gun and holster, muttering to himself as he went.

Taisie kept by the door, unlacing her boots and looking around. It had been a long time since she'd been inside a real house- not an apartment or the back of gas station.

There was an old couch, heavy with dust, and an arm chair, topped with a folded newspaper. She could picture Mike getting up every morning, to drink his coffee and read about the miserable news in the world, grumbling to himself about something or other.

Her gaze wandered toward the tiny kitchen. All she could make out was a fridge and a small kitchen table. There were children's drawings pinned to the fridge.

Mike came out from wherever he'd been hiding.

"Want a drink?" He asked, searching around the room for something.

"Yeah, I'd love one," Taisie nodded. She hadn't had an alcoholic drink in days, and after today's events, she needed one.

"Good, we'll get going in a few minutes, then," Mike clapped his hands together.

Taisie frowned, wondering what the old man meant. But she kept her mouth shut. She was feeling a little humbled by being in his house.

"I don't have an extra bedroom or anything," Mike told her, "bought this house long after my son moved out, and he doesn't come to visit."

Taisie didn't respond. She turned her gaze to the drawings on the fridge.

"But you have a granddaughter, right?"

"Yeah," Mike cleared his throat, "my son's daughter- Kaylee."

He clearly did not want to elaborate. Taisie wondered why he had drawings on his fridge from his granddaughter, but was never visited by his son. It sound like a complex relationship.

"Now," Mike walked over to the chest across from the living room couch, "there's a blanket in here."

He pulled it out and dropped it on the couch. It was a large floral quilt- a little ugly, but it would work just fine.

"I don't bother with sheets or anything. You're going to have to deal with that."

Taisie nodded, eyes wide. Mike didn't realize what sleeping on a couch meant to her, but that didn't matter.

"Why'd you change guns?" Taisie asked, changing the subject. She nodded at his waist, where a smaller, more compact gun rested.

Mike was in the midst of putting his fleece back on.

"Eh? Oh, that. Yeah well I arm myself differently when I'm not on duty."

Mike did not seem in the mood to elaborate, so Taisie did not push.

"Let's get going."

They did not drive this time, but, rather, walked.

Mike instructed her to be quiet while they walked, and memorize the route they were taking.

Taisie had cased many places, and come back the next day to steal things. She'd never done any big heists, but she understood the idea. She glanced at every house, every fire hydrant, the neighbours who were walking by.

No one said hello to Mike as they passed by. Taisie remembered that her neighbours would always greet her as she left the neighbourhood. They had given her suspicious looks, when she'd ridden out of her large yard, with band aids all across her legs, and messy hair. But, nonetheless, they'd always said hello. It seemed Mike was invisible to the rest of the world.

After walking for about twenty minutes, they turned at the end of a road and walked into a bar.

"We were walking to a bar?" Taisie gave Mike a pained look. He shrugged.

"You said you wanted a drink."

"Yeah but-"

"Don't argue, I come here nearly every day. You're going to learn to get used to it."

So Mike Ehrmantraut was an alcoholic. Taisie supposed it would be hard not to be one, in his line of work. And Taisie figured she was about ready to join him.

Mike grunted at the bar tender, and took a seat in one of the stools. Taisie followed him and set next to him. The bar tender walked over to them.

"Who's the girl, Mike?"

Mike looked up, his droopy eyes looking already tired of human interaction.

"She's staying with me for a bit. Get us two of the usuals."

The bar tender gave Taisie one last look, then turned to prepare whatever "the usual" was.

Seconds later, Taisie had a neat whiskey in front of her. Mike did too. He immediately took a drink. He'd almost emptied it already.

Taisie followed suite. The taste was horrible- worse than vodka- but it didn't really matter. She swallowed it, wincing.

After some time, the bar tender walked to the other end of the bar, leaving them in peace.

"Do you ever talk to anyone while you're here?" Taisie asked, finishing off the last of her drink.

"No," Mike pushed the empty rocks glasses forward, clinking them to get the bar tender's attention.

The man refilled their drinks without speaking.

"And you come here how often?" Taisie continued, sipping at her drink, this time with less resistance.

"Depends," Mike savoured his drink for a moment, "on how my day's been."

"I see," Taisie finished her second drink. She wondered what kind of day today was, for Mike. How many drinks would they go through? Taisie was certain that she'd be matching whatever Mike drank.

"Another round," Mike spoke up.

* * *

><p>Taisie fell asleep on the couch, late that night. Or maybe it was early in the morning. Either way, she slept more comfortably and for longer, than she had in years.<p>

But she woke with a piercing headache. She'd had hangovers before, of course, but never ones this painful.

She groaned in protest, as the sun came through the curtains, and rolled over, burying her face in her pillow.

"Wake up," Mike grunted. He was sitting in the armchair next to the couch. Taisie peeked through her blanket at the old man.

"How are you awake so early?" She teased.

"It's seven," Mike informed her. He had a mug of coffee in his hands, and a newspaper in the other. Just as Taisie would have expected.

"I don't sleep in, in my work," Mike told her, "in fact, I just don't sleep in."

"You think I ever got to sleep in?" Taisie whined pathetically, and flopped over, "I was thinking today I would start."

"Not on my watch," Mike clicked his tongue, "clean up and get yourself some coffee."

Taisie obeyed, picked up the blanket, and threw it into the chest. As she did this, she noticed a manilla envelope, hidden at the bottom. She wondered what was in it, but didn't stare for too long, just in case Mike noticed.

She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. She'd had coffee a few times. When she'd been begging on the streets, occasionally someone would buy her one. She'd never really cared for them, but she drank it as fast as she could, letting it burn her throat, and distract her from her headache.

"Pace yourself," Mike commanded, absently, as he read his newspaper.

"Do I get breakfast?" Taisie wondered. She hadn't eaten since she'd devoured that drugged muffin in the car.

"See what's in the fridge," Mike dismissed her.

Taisie wandered into the kitchen, getting a better look at the drawings on the fridge. She smiled faintly. They were strange beings: children. Taisie had a sister, somewhere out there. But they'd been the same age, so she'd never really experienced being around children.

She opened the fridge. There was a carton of cream, some moulding fruit, and a dried up square of cheese.

The freezer had a freezer-burnt container of frozen waffles, hiding in the back behind an empty tray of ice cubes.

So it appeared that Mike lived a luxurious life, full of exotic foods, Taisie teased to herself. Nevertheless, she was hungry and had learned to throw away her taste buds years ago. Frozen waffles it was.

Taisie walked into the living room, excited to ask whether she might indulge in having one for breakfast, but Mike had vacated the room.

Putting the waffles down on the couch, Taisie took advantage of this time alone to seek out the manilla envelope from the bottom of the chest. She pried it open and slipped her hand in. The only thing to be found was a small object at the bottom, which she brought out.

It was a wedding ring- a thin band and a small diamond, but still a wedding ring.

It made Taisie feel oddly emotional, for reasons she couldn't quite place. It obviously meant something to Mike, and she wondered what it's story was.

Just as she was inspecting it, she heard a noise from behind around,Taisie found Mike, standing behind her, pointing his gun in her face.

"AHHH!" She screamed, and dropped the ring, letting it scurry under the couch.

"What are you doing?!" Mike demanded, his hands shaking slightly, letting the gun move targets.

"W-what am "I" doing?" Taisie was incredulous, "what the fuck are YOU doing?" She was shaking.

"You first," Mike insisted, lowering his gun fully.

"I was just curious! I wanted to know what was in the folder, so I looked. Why are you pointing a gun at me?"

Mike, looking slightly flustered, had placed the gun back in its holster.

"I was going to surprise you and see how you'd react. First lesson."

"That would be one hell of a lesson," Taisie muttered, getting to her feet, "can I have some waffles?"

"What?" Mike looked at her like she was crazy, "Yes, of course. Whatever."

Taisie nodded, picked up the waffles, and went into the kitchen. While she put them in the toaster, she raised her voice so that Mike could hear her.

"So was that your wife's ring then?"

Mike laughed hoarsely. He sounded drained.

"No, no. I imagine she sold it. That's my mother's ring, actually."

Taisie got herself a plate from the cupboard. She turned around and leaned against the counter, looking across the house at Mike.

"You care about your mother?"

"I did, yeah," Mike shrugged, walking into the kitchen, "better than my old man, at least."

Taisie nodded.

"I didn't know my parents. Not my real ones anyway."

"But if your adopted parents were the ones to look after you, wouldn't they be your real parents?" Mike wondered.

"Sometimes," Taisie considered, "but not in my case."

The toaster popped, and Taisie placed her waffle on her plate.

"So are we going to start this lesson, then?"

"You've got to be kidding me," Taisie glared at the old man, "I'm here to learn how to use a gun, not learn how to use a treadmill."

Mike had showed her how to use his treadmill, while Taisie glared at him, waiting for him to reveal that he'd been joking. She'd been expecting an elaborate training schedule: one where she learned how to shoot a gun while jumping, or something of that nature.

"You have to be in good shape to get involved in this line of work," Mike disagreed, rather patiently for him, "I might not be the peak of fitness. But I've had years of training. If I didn't have my gun, I could protect myself. You, on the other hand, are a little twig who can barely hold a coffee mug."

"It's not my fault that I'm underfed," Taisie muttered, "anyway, I can still kick some ass, I'll have you know."

"I don't doubt that you can," Mike sighed, "but that's not good enough."

Taisie kicked the side of the treadmill in frustration. Nothing was good enough.

"You break it and you're paying for it," Mike warned her, "now I think it's time we see a change of scenery."

Taisie's eyes widened, and she perked her ears. Could they possibly be doing some _real_ training now?

"We're going shopping," Mike decided, standing up and folding his newspaper. Taisie's heart sank.

"Shopping? For fuck's sakes Mike-"

"You need more than one set of clothes, and we need some better groceries. I'm getting you on a strict diet."

"I can't believe this," Taisie muttered as they got out of the car and walked into the mall.

Taisie had been in many malls, but typically not accompanied by a 60 year old hit man, or with the intention of paying for anything she wanted.

The old man dragged her into the first clothing stores he found. She had to explain to him that there was a difference between the clothing stores for young people, and the mature boutiques that sold horrible floral blouses.

Once she'd set that straight, Taisie picked out a few new outfits which Mike grudgingly payed for -despite the fact that Taisie had a sneaky suspicion that he was not lacking in money. Whoever Mike was working for definitely did not fail to pay him well.

She bought a few sets of jeans and leather pants, as well as bandeaus in dark colours, and flimsy t shirts. Albuquerque was just as hot as it was Los Angeles, and Taisie had no intention of changing her clothing style.

"Just try to look a _little _less like a prostitute, alright?" Mike pleaded through the side of his mouth, as Taisie changed in the changing room, "I would prefer to not look like a very old pimp."

This set Taisie off, making her laugh so hard she slipped onto the floor inside her changing room. She pressed her face into the pile of clothes she tried on, in an attempt to stifle her laughter.

"You alright in there?" A sales clerk asked, looking from the changing room to Mike, suspiciously.

"My daughter's fine," Mike put pleasantly, with an edge to his voice. He knew how to drive people away.

Taisie laughed even harder at the notion of being Mike's daughter.

After they'd finished shopping for clothing, they walked into the grocery store.

Taisie felt strange, not pocketing anything, and simply perusing the aisles for food that they would be purchasing.

She nudged Mike every once and a while, showing him something she'd found and wanted to buy. But she found out, right away, that he was not a pushover.

No matter how many times she said 'please', he would not be buying her chocolate ice cream or pizza.

Mike insisted that they stick to a very strict list. Strong proteins, vitamins, iron, calcium- all those things were ingredients for Taisie's new diet.

She looked at some of the food with disgust on her face.

"What the hell _is_ protein powder?" She wanted to know. Mike didn't answer.

They finished shopping, and went home.

"I'm starving," Taisie sighed dramatically, "you know they say you should never go shopping for food on an empty stomach. I guess we should order a pizza..."

Mike gave her a disapproving looking.

"Eat a yogurt," he advised.

"But I don't want to-"

"Eat a yogurt."

Taisie hesitated. It had been a long time since she'd truly HAD to listen to someone. But she followed Mike's instructions. She had promised to follow him, she reminded herself. Always.

* * *

><p>Every morning, at 7 A.M, Taisie would eat whatever strange concoction of health foods Mike would leave out for her. Plus, she always drank a cup of coffee with Mike.<p>

Then she'd spend half the day exercising on the treadmill that Mike owned, going for runs to the park and back, or doing strength training with the weights Mike owned.

"I feel like I'm in a training montage for a really bad action film," Taisie informed her trainer, over a whiskey one evening.

"Also, can I just say that drinking a whiskey nearly every night does not seem very healthy."

"You're not keeping me away from my whiskey," Mike warned her, finishing off his second.

"I know, I know. So...I've been living with you for almost two weeks now. Care to tell me where you go during the day?"

"Here and there," Mike snapped his fingers for another drink.

"That's all your going to say?"

"I'm employed. I have a job, and I go do that job when I'm asked to."

"Well, when are you going to let me in on this job of yours?" Taisie pressed. She pushed away her drink, and crossed her arms.

"I don't believe I ever agreed to that," Mike refused to make eye contact with his companion.

"You're not even going to tell me about this _mutual associate_ of yours and Saul's?"

"Wasn't planning on it," Mike clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"It's not going to be as easy as you think it will be to let me go," Taisie muttered, "In fact, I'm betting you ten bucks that you'll like me so much, you'll want to keep me around."

Mike couldn't help but chuckle, his breath heavy with the scent of whiskey.

"I highly doubt that, kid."

Taisie decided to finish her drink after all. She was just about to suggest that they stagger on home, when something caught her eye.

Taisie bent closer to Mike, so that she might speak to him quietly.

"I think that Mr. Stand-by-the-door is following us."

"Oh, I noticed that a while ago," Mike nodded slowly, "We'll deal with him. Let me just finish my drink."

Taisie half-expected the old man to take his time, and purposely torture their pursuer. But Mike swallowed the last of his drink, and stood, toppling over his stool. The bar tender raised his eyebrows but remained silent. It appeared that he was used to these sorts of situations.

Taisie followed Mike, a sinking feeling stirring in her, that reminded her that she was armed only with the little physical training Mike had taught her.

Now standing outside, in the dusty parking lot, Mike crossed his arms stiffly, and settled in closer to Taisie.

"Might I help you, sir?" Mike asked, almost mockingly.

Their pursuer was a middle-aged Latino man- strong and husky.

"Yeah," the man took a second to spit on the ground, "we've been hearing about some new blue stuff on the market."

Mike looked at Taisie for a moment, then back to the man.

"Yeah, who's asking?"

"Tuco Salamanca," the man made sure to clearly annunciate, for emphasis.

"I see," Mike shuffled his stature, "Listen, I'm not the one you're going to want to talk about this to. But I'll have you know, we know nothing about it. In fact, someone only informed me of it today."

The man spat once more, making Taisie pull a face of disgust.

"So there's someone new on the market, eh? Well Tuco will find out who, and we'll be dealing with him soon enough."

"Alright," Mike put simply, "are we done here?"

"For now," The man slide by Mike, purposely bumping his shoulder.

"What the hell-?"

Mike stopped Taisie from speaking.

"When we get home," he insisted, and they set off on the journey home. Taisie had sobered up quite quickly now.

"What the fuck was that? I thought you were going to pull a piece out."

Taisie collapsed on the couch, too exhausted and distressed to pull her old boots off.

"It's not your concern."

"It _is_ my concern, Mike," Taisie argued. She said nothing else, but the severity she expressed in her tone seemed to affect the old man.

"It's work stuff. Just a competing company. Everything's fine. If you're in this line of work, you're going to have to get used to confrontations like that. And one's that don't end so pleasantly."

"That was not pleasant," Taisie disagreed, "that was aggressive. And I'm not stupid. I have no idea what 'blue' is supposed to be code for, but you're obviously peddling drugs."

"_I'm_ not peddling anything," Mike countered. He had not sobered up as quickly as Taisie. His face was flushed and his words were slurring.

"I'm head of security for a very big company. This company does sell a form of...narcotic-"

"Cut the bullshit, Mike," Taisie raised her voice, "or I'm out of here. What is it- cocaine, meth?"

"Methamphetamine, yes," Mike confirmed solemnly.

"Jesus Christ," Taisie brought a hand to her forehead, feeling it pulsing.

"You knew what you were signing up for," Mike said, rubbing a hand over his own bald head.

"Not really," Taisie laughed faintly, in spite of it all.

"You knew that none of this would be easy. Besides, you're a prostitute, don't tell me you're morally against all this."

"I _was_ a prostitute," Taisie corrected him with a glare, "and I did what I did because I _had_ to. What about you Mike? You're telling me you just couldn't be a cop anymore?"

"That's a story for another time," Mike sighed, "now get to bed, kid. We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

Taisie nodded and slipped her way under her blanket, which she'd neglected from earlier.

"Goodnight, Mike."

"Goodnight, kid."


	3. Announcement

_**Hi guys! I'm so glad people have been showing interest in this story! I have a lot of plans for it. However, in light of some of the new plot lines happening with Better Call Saul (which I am LOVING), I am going to do some more planning/re-organizing of the story. So bear with me while I do that, and I will have the next chapter up as soon as I can!**_

_**Meanwhile, you have any suggestions/feedback, please feel free to review/PM me!**_


End file.
